


Bad days

by everythingremainsconnected



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: (Ish) - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, DrummerWolf, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 02, descriptions of depression and hopelessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13187190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/pseuds/everythingremainsconnected
Summary: Anyone living with a chronic illness has bad days, no matter how good they are at managing their symptoms. Said illness manifesting as witchikookoo bullshit doesn't make it hurt any less.





	Bad days

Amanda had learned a lot, like a serious amount, in the last few months. She’d learned how to weaponize attacks, and find meaning in her visions. She’d learned how to find other weirdos and was working on the ‘holding onto them’ part. One of the worst things she’d learned was that near-constant, all-consuming pain was exhausting.

“Not again, not again,” Amanda groaned as her hands caught alight. Hot fire burned. Skin blistered, peeled, stank of smoke and cooking meat. Amanda screamed. 

“Drummer!” Martin shouted, running across the clearing to get to her. 

“No, don’t,” Amanda ordered through clenched teeth, “I’ve gotta learn.” She doubled over, holding her hands out from her body as she forced the flames to become real. The crushing weight of her will pushed the flame out of the realm of hallucination and into reality. It hurt just as bad. With a final scream Amanda dunked her hands into a nearby bucket prepared for this exact event. Steam filled the air and she sank to her knees. Holding the bucket edges tightly Amanda tried to slow her breathing and keep her damn hands from shaking. 

Martin watched on, curdling in his own helplessness. Amanda’s pain was sour on the air. It filled his nose and broke his heart. 

“I’ve gotta learn,” Amanda said again. 

“Why’d that taste like a lie, Drummer?” 

Amanda sighed. She sat on the ground, flexing her fingers, checking her skin for burns and finding none. Patting her pockets for a joint Amanda came up empty and growled in frustration. 

“Amanda?” 

“I’m _sick_ of this!” Amanda screamed. She scrubbed at her eyes to stop them leaking but it didn’t work. “I’m so sick of this.” 

Martin was painfully ill equipped to deal with the complex storm of emotion raging around Amanda. “What do I do?” 

Amanda’s only answer was frustrated tears. Wracking his brain for something, _anything_ , that might help, beyond just straight up eating the pain, Martin slowly remembered... Whenever he woke up sweating and shouting at shadows he’d find arms around him, holding him close. That’s how she comforted them all when the nightmares came for them. Maybe that would work for her. 

Slowly, nervously, Martin drew closer and eventually sat beside her. He didn’t even get a chance to lift his arm before Amanda leaned into him. She tried to swallow her bitter tears but couldn’t stop her shoulders from shaking. Martin managed the ‘arm around the shoulders’ manoeuvre and brought her close. What did she always say to them? 

“You’re gonna be ok.” 

Amanda scoffed wetly. “It’s never gonna stop.” 

“What’s that?” 

“The pain. It’s my whole freakin’ thing. It hurts to see visions. It hurts to make the hallucination real. It just always hurts and I’m sick of it hurting.” Amanda’s face crumpled and she couldn’t help the sob that bubbled up. “Controlling it doesn’t it make it hurt any less and some days I just don’t want to feel anything.” 

“I can take it. If you want.” 

“You can’t take the memories.” 

“No, I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault.” 

“Let us take the attacks,” Martin practically begged. “Let us help. It’s all I know how to do.” 

“Can’t.” Amanda sniffed. “I gotta learn it. I’m just tired of it hurting.” 

“So what do we do?” Martin asked. The scent of Amanda changed on the air and the tremor of her shoulders... _Was that a laugh?_ “Drummer?” 

“You know how much I love… that?” 

“What?” 

Amanda wiped her nose. “It’s us. It’s always us. Even when it hurts so bad I just want to _give up_ ,” she sniffed, “there’s always us.” 

“You want to what?” 

“You know. You know something that hurts too much. Especially when you know it’s literally a matter of time til it happens again.” 

Martin nodded. Those memories still hurt him, even now. “Yeah. I do.” 

“Of course you do,” Amanda whispered. Sadness swamped her. 

“Difference is,” Martin cleared his throat, “difference is, you’re made for more than we ever were. You’re gonna fix things.” 

“I can’t fix anything. I’m as broken as they come.” 

“No, Drummer.” Martin shifted to look at her and gripped her by the shoulders. He looked into her eyes and half-smiled. “Ok, maybe. But we’re all broken together and you got that voodoo-hoodoo you do so well. You’re gonna make it right.” 

“But it hurts. And I’m so _tired_.” 

“C’mon. You need sleep.” Martin stood up and held out a hand. “This is that _hangry_ thing or a tired thing and the boys and Beast won’t be back with food for a while. Get some sleep.” 

Amanda scowled. “It’s a ‘sick of being in literal physical pain constantly’ thing, asshole. Haven’t you been listening?” 

“I listen plenty.” 

“Sleep isn’t gonna fix this. I have attacks while I’m _sleeping_.” Amanda’s face crumpled again. 

Martin panicked as another tide of misery rolled across the clearing. “I’ll make you a deal.” 

“What kind of deal?” 

“I’ll stay awake and eat whatever nightmare comes a-callin’.” Martin pulled Amanda to her feet. “And in return, you let me help. Let me take the pain. Just for a while.” 

“I can’t, I’ll never learn-” 

“You ain’t gonna learn a thing if you’re too tired to think right.” Martin interrupted, fear making him desperate. “I can taste it, Drummer. The sleep that pulls at your bones. You need rest. You can’t fix shit if you ain’t slept in a week.” 

“Yeah, well.” Amanda rubbed her eyes. “Maybe if _someone_ didn’t snore all freakin’ night I’d get some sleep.” 

“Oh, you talkin’ ‘bout me?” 

“Pfft. You and Cross have competitions every damn night I swear to god.” 

Martin dared to smile. He slung an arm around Amanda’s shoulders as they trudged to the van. “You’ve given it your best once or twice.” 

“Excuse me? I do not snore.” 

“Half a bottle of bourbon begs to differ.” 

Amanda laughed a little and the flicker of happiness was sweet in Martin’s nose. He opened the van’s back door and held out a hand to brace Amanda as she climbed in. 

“What if I can’t sleep?” 

“You gotta try first.” 

“Fine.” Amanda pulled blankets out from behind boxes and under seats and piled them up. She threw herself down onto the nest somewhat petulantly. Martin did his best not to smile and climbed in beside her, sitting down with his back against the wall of the van. Amanda wriggled around til she was next to Martin’s outstretched legs. 

“You done?” 

Amanda sighed. “I guess. You’re not going anywhere, are you?” 

“I told you before. I ain’t got no place to be but here for you. Wherever ‘here’ might be.” 

“I don’t plan to dimension-hop again any time soon.” 

Martin smiled. “Don’t go makin’ promises now, Drummer.” 

Closing her eyes, Amanda smiled briefly. “I just don’t want it to hurt for a while.” 

“I know, darlin’. I got you.” Martin carefully reached for her, running his fingers through her hair, earning another smile from her. 

“You better.” Amanda pressed her forehead against Martin’s thigh. Her breathing slowed and her emotions calmed. “I’m so tired.” 

“I know. I wish there was another way,” Martin whispered. “It ain’t fair.” 

“Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something,” Amanda said darkly. “I know it’s not fair, believe me, but... I’m glad you’re here. You’re about the only good thing that’s come out of all this.” 

There was a long pause. Martin was painfully aware of the red flush climbing his neck. “Really?” 

“And it’s gotta be great for you guys, having a portable buffet with you all the time, right?” 

“Uh, yeah. Real convenient.” 

Amanda punched his leg. “Convenient? Really?” 

“What am I s’posed to say to that?” 

“Probably literally _anything_ other than ‘I’m a convenient food source’.” 

Martin scrambled. “You said it first?” 

“Coz you didn’t say anything!” 

Martin gaped. He was plenty confused all on his own and the barrage of strange emotion from Amanda was not helping. “What was I meant to say?” 

“Something nice about me being here?” Amanda prompted. She sat up. “How am I supposed to sleep when I’m annoyed at you?” 

“You know I suck at this human shit.” 

“Whatever. Asshole.” 

Martin stared, completely bewildered. “I ain’t have to bother with words a whole lot ‘til you crashed on into our lives. It’s easier when folk can just taste what you’re feelin’ but since you can’t…” Martin took a deep breath and flexed his vocabulary. “I never want to go back to what it was before. Without you. Bein’ apart from you, in Blackwing… was the worst thing I ever lived through.” 

“There you go,” Amanda smiled, “was that so hard?” 

Martin scratched his beard and returned the smile, taking in the sweet scent of Amanda’s happiness that matched the blush on her cheeks. “I’m tryin’.” 

“I know. Me too.” 

“You feel better now that we’ve had an argument?” 

Amanda shook her head and the happiness faded. “I’m afraid of the next time it hurts.” 

“You want me to take it?” 

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Amanda nodded. Her eyes burned with exhaustion and tears and Amanda gave up; there just wasn’t enough strength left to be stubborn. Barely holding back proper gulping sobs, she climbed into Martin’s lap, desperate to feel something between her and the world. 

Martin held Amanda close and breathed in deep, easing the fear and panic and worry from her in a soft, purple haze. “I got you, Drummer. It won’t hurt no more.” 

“Just for a little while?” 

“As long as you want.” 

If there had been an ounce of energy left in her, Amanda would have cried with relief. Instead she sighed and pressed her head against Martin’s chest. The low steady boom of his heart lulled her to sleep in seconds. 

Martin sighed as he kept watch for nightmares and pain. Times like this, she scared him. The taste of her agony was incredible and he could only imagine how badly it hurt her every damn day. He wished there was someone to blame, or someone to fight to make it stop. It had been a while since the bitter unfairness of the world had stung him but this time it went deep into his bones. 

“Shh,” Amanda murmured. She placed her hand over his heart for a second and Martin realised he’d been growling. “Shh, baby. I got you.” 

“That you do.” Martin smiled. Her whispers worked like some kind of magic, making his heart pound and his head spin. 

Amanda made a little satisfied _hmph_ and hooked her hand in the open collar of his shirt. Her fingers grazed his skin and her breath tickled and Martin knew he’d never move again for fear of disturbing her sleep. The inevitable dead leg would be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Living with a couple of hinky health issues, I really identified with Amanda in season 1, and to me it just doesn't feel right to leave her at season 2 without acknowledging that pain sucks, even magic pain. I'm on [Tumblr](https://everythingremainsconnected.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/itssopunk) if you wanna say hi <3


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